The greatest werewolf of them all
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: There was blood in the air, the smell of rust hitting Fenrir's nose as he crawled over the rocks on all fours; the werewolf leaned upwards, taking in the smell of blood and fear that tingled and crawled over the entire area, reminding him of the terror that filled his victims in their last moments before he ended it all.


There was blood in the air, the smell of rust hitting Fenrir's nose as he crawled over the rocks on all fours; the werewolf leaned upwards, taking in the smell of blood and fear that tingled and crawled over the entire area, reminding him of the terror that filled his victims in their last moments before he ended it all.

It was his favourite smell in the whole world, the smell of fresh blood, recently spilt, and not yet cooled. The smell of blood before the bodies have even been removed and before the sensation of walking over something sacred had left the area. Before this grassy clearing could become just another spot in the forest, it was the sight of a murder, and the sight before him was Fenrir's favourite thing in the world.

"Number?" he asked one of the pups, a kid barely out of Hogwarts, whose features were drawn out, nose bent and twisted from multiple scraps and fights. The pup jumped at the sound of Fenrir's voice, instantly leaning over to appear more wolfish and wild. Fenrir smiled; his second favourite thing was scaring the pups, the new recruits to his werewolf garrison.

"Five, sir," the pup replied, bowing low, eyes scraping the grass as an older wolf pushed past to sniff over a slain body. "No survivors, sir, at least as far as we can tell." His voice was low and growly, but Fenrir could sniff out an act, and this pup was merely playing at being a wolf, something that was obvious to every other wolf in the area.

"And I'm sure you've had your best and brightest check for pulses already? Monitored breathing, opened eyes, made sure that these bloody fucks aren't just lying in wait to slay us all when we turn our backs? Or has Misha not bothered to teach you whelps how to be a proper wolf yet?" Fenrir asked harshly, giving the pup a wolfish grin as the younger werewolf cowered under the hard gaze of his Alpha.

"Yes, sir," the pup mumbled respectfully, face practically pushing into the dirt as he bowed so low that Fenrir could see over his backside with ease. "I am so sorry for failing you in this way, sir, of course I'll get someone on that right away, sir, don't you wor-"

"I think you ought to be doing it for me, _Omega_," Fenrir growled, and the pup flinched at the title. It brought pleasure to Fenrir to see the pup so panicked about ending as the Omega. Fenrir cocked his head slightly as the pup cowered in fear as Fenrir let his eyes run over the sight of this little scrap of a kid. "Remember who your Alpha is, whelp, before I have to remind you in front of the entire pack."

"Yes, sir," the pup said, beginning to scramble away before a thought came to Fenrir's mind. He normally couldn't care less about the new members to the pack, at least until they rose through the ranks and became a potential attempt at an Alpha takeover, but it couldn't hurt to make sure that Misha was taking care of the _stupid _ones during training.

"What's your name, whelp?" Fenrir asked, and the pup turned back with fright in his brown eyes that were leaning towards amber the closer they got to a full moon, and his shaggy hair trailed down to just past his shoulder. This pup was not yet wild, Fenrir could tell. He had not yet learned to feel the beauty of dirt under him and the taste of fear in his mouth.

"Lupin, sir," the pup replied quietly, twisting his head to look up at Fenrir, having been backing up so that Fenrir could not see his backside. _Good_, at least Misha had taught him that much. "I am Remus Lupin, sir." The pup's eyes shifted away from Fenrir's, hands loose, his shoulders bent over in a show of submissiveness, and Fenrir gave the pup another wolfish grin.

"Well, Remus Lupin, I suspect that you ought to hurry off and go inspect those bodies before I tear you apart for scraps of meat to feed those of us who are _smart _enough to know how to do their job properly the first time, if you understand what I'm saying," Fenrir snarled, causing the pup to flinch again in a way that made Fenrir feel fantastic about being the Alpha.

He thought briefly to himself that the name _Remus Lupin _sounded familiar, but shoved the idea out of his mind. There had been so many children and adults over the years who Fenrir had helped to convert, to help them open their eyes and see lycanthropy as more than just a curse. If this scrawny kid was one of his old targets, then that was hardly Fenrir's problem. He had a pack to run, after all, and didn't need to concern himself with trying to remember if he had ever attacked one stupid kid.

"Yes, sir," the pup mumbled, running off once more, head lowered in Fenrir's direction as he scrambled, doing his best to avoid running into the more senior wolves around him in his hurry to inspect the bodies. The pup was a scared, nervous thing, which was Fenrir's favourite kind; it was those that talked back to him and senior wolves that were a problem. _Those _were the sort who would try to fight for dominance late on in life.

_Those_ were the ones that Fenrir would have to get rid of soon enough, before they became too much of a problem and got it into their head that they would do better in the role of Alpha than their current leader. It wouldn't be the first time that Fenrir had killed off a few members of his garrison, but the occasional death was worth it to maintain dominance and a sense of control over the pack.

Fenrir watched the young pup run off before turning to his Beta, a thin but muscled brunette named Faolan Varg, who was leaning up against the rocks that Fenrir had leapt over to enter this grassy clearing. She was covered in scars and scratches from years of fighting her way up the ranks, and was even missing the ring finger on her right hand.

Fenrir had very little concern for those of the opposite gender, especially those who were of a pretty face like Faolan; he had made it his life's goal to infect and spread the curse of the lycanthrope. He had no time for love or the charms of an attractive woman, and besides that, if Fenrir wanted a mate, he had many young whelps waiting for his command to do as he wished with them.

But Faolan was…_different_, and not in a way that Fenrir much appreciated. It was said that all werewolves were made mad inside, but Faolan was _only _madness. She would never make for a very good Alpha, of course, as she was too wild and uncontrollable, but as a Beta, she was made perfect for the job, as long as she followed orders. Faolan put fear into those who were foolish enough to think that werewolves were not for fearing. With short, dark hair that had not seen a human's brush in years, and ice blue eyes ringed with red, she cut a very imposing figure.

Which was part of the reason why Fenrir wanted nothing to do with her, as his mate. She was too wild, too powerful, and the others in the pack would never respect a mate that could take on her Alpha like a male could. Fenrir had spent many a teasing night next to this wild she-wolf, but only through the weak succumbing mind of a man. As a wolf, Fenrir was only able to see Faolan as his Beta, loyal and ready to fight by Fenrir's side whenever he demanded it. He merely had to keep her check.

"The whelps get bolder every year, do you not zink?" Faolan asked in a crisp voice, just the barest hint of an accent giving away the fact that the forests of the British Isles was not her true home, but rather that of a far-off land that she did not speak about except to admit that life for a werewolf was only mildly more encouraging from where she came. "The ones Misha trained for you last year were some of the worst, I believe. Zey were alvays asking about ze _initiative_, like it vas _our _job to tell zem how to be a proper verevolf."

"Indeed," Fenrir replied, giving his Beta a cursory glance before turning back to his prowling pack. "I might need to have a _talk _with Misha about his ability to properly training the pups to be complacent when we need them to be. Though this new one…Lupin, was it?" Fenrir waved a hand in the direction of the pup, who was sniffing over one of the bodies. "Now there's one who might have to go. _Bah_, he's useless, that one. Not a fight in him."

"And ve need ze _fight_, do we not, Fenrir?" Faolan asked with a smirk, looking with him as two of the pups began growling at each other, circling each other with bloodlust filling their eyes. "Your master _vants _the fight, does he not? He is a bit of a…vhat is it called, varmonger? And _you_, his loyal pet, ready to raise up an entire army to fight vith him?"

"I am no one's pet, Fao," Fenrir growled, turning to look at his Beta threateningly. "You seem to forget yourself, my dear. Perhaps the pups are not the only ones who need to be properly _trained_? I think you might benefit from a few lessons yourself, speaking words like this. You best watch what you say, Faolan; remember, you are nothing but _my_ Beta. _I _am Alpha, and this pack listens to _me _before they listen to you."

"Of course, Fenrir, I am overstepping my boundaries in saying such zings. My apologies. It is obvious to everyone here zat you answer to no one. But, may I ask you, vhat is it zat ve get out of all of _zis _by vorking vith ze vizards? Zey _hate _our kind, yet ve are going to assist one of zem? How is it that some mere _human _has convinced you to go to var with him?"

"Lord Voldemort _is _a bit of a warmonger, I will give you that, Faolan, but he has given me the promise that, in his rule, werewolves will no longer be second-class citizens. No longer shall we have to fear for our lives or worry that Ministry officials will attempt to start up a new hunt for the lycanthropes. Under Lord Voldemort's rule, the werewolves will thrive like we never have before!" Fenrir declared, but Faolan only gave him a disbelieving look.

"And you take ze vord of a vizard just like zat? Fenrir, I zink you might be making a mistake in trusting zis 'Lord Voldemort'. Just because he has von you over vith promises of a bright future for all verevolves, it does not mean zat he vill fulfill his promise. All vizards are liars," Faolan said angrily, and Fenrir put a finger over his lips to hush her.

Fenrir grabbed Faolan's arm, pulling her away from the clearing, and the two of them tramped through the forest, until Fenrir was certain they would not be overheard by any of the other pack members. He whirled Faolan around the face him, giving her his best _'I am the Alpha here, and you obey my every instruction' _look. Faolan didn't seem very impressed.

"You are attempting to undermine me in front of the whole pack?" Fenrir demanded of her, pushing Faolan up against a tree, baring his teeth at her neck. "Are you _really _so dumb that you would dare question the Alpha in front of everyone? I ought to have you killed, or at least kicked down the ranks, until you're so _low _that not even an Omega would be afraid to spit in your face."

"But you do not dare, Fenrir," Faolan replied with a coy smile, placing her hand over his in order to move it away from her. She leaned away from the tree that Fenrir had pushed her against, standing up to her full height, which was only a little shorter than Fenrir himself. "You are _scared_ to fight me, _scared _to admit zat, in a fight, you are not sure vhat outcome vould be yours to claim. And so, you do _nothing_ to me, regardless of your zhreats, because ve both know zat I _vould _fight you rather zan accept being punished for speaking my mind."

"I can replace you with ease, Faolan, do not think yourself invincible," Fenrir reminded her, wishing that his Beta showed a little more fear, rather than seeming to grow angry, as though she felt herself to be right. It made the anger inside of Fenrir bubble up, and he was beginning to smell the same bloodlust of a pup who could not control themselves. "I have been thinking on it for quite some time anyway, and I _do _believe it is time for a bit of change in how things run in this pack of mine."

"Perhaps it is time for a new Alpha? Is zat vhat you are suggesting, Fenrir? Because I vould be very glad to take over as your replacement, don't zink zat I am not prepared," Faolan said with a mocking laugh, and the next thing Fenrir knew, he was roaring, leaping for Faolan's throat, and the she-wolf was growling in response, ready to fight, to kill him, to take his spot as Alpha.

Fenrir did not remember what happened after that, only that he smelled blood in the air, and as he walked back to where the rest of the pack was waiting for him, Fenrir felt the wolfish instinct inside of him leap with joy at the taste of blood that covered his hands and face. What was left of his Beta lay in a pile of body parts and torn clothes behind him.

Faolan was dead, that much was obvious to him, though Fenrir could not entirely remember having even laid a hand on her. No matter, though, as, with her twisted off head, the body barely looked like the woman he had once called Faolan Varg. She was just another body, really, just another victim who had fallen to the darkness, succumbing to the so-called curse of being a werewolf and, unfortunately, Faolan had used the darkness inside of her to overstep her boundaries.

If Fenrir had truly killed her, then it was Faolan's fault in the first place that she was dead. If she hadn't been acting so crazy these past few weeks…if she hadn't been behaving in such a paranoid manner, or constantly tried to undermine his authority, then Fenrir wouldn't have had to kill her. Obviously, he thought to himself, mouth twisting upwards into a cruel smile, it was all _Faolan's_ fault for acting so crazy. But, then again, that's how women were, right? They were all a little crazy.

Some of the pups stared wildly at him as Fenrir broke through the trees, stomping back into the clearing with danger on his face and blood dripping from his clothes. The older members, those who had had the experience of Fenrir's moods, simply continued to sniff around the bodies strewn about, as the living wolves pretended like they didn't notice the absence of their Beta.

Soon enough, Faolan would be gone from the whole pack's memory altogether, forgotten and disregarded, just like any other Alpha or Beta who had been taken out of power by someone smarter and stronger than they were. Faolan had not been the first Beta that Fenrir had disposed of, and he almost savoured the idea of doing it again, filling his mouth with the taste of a scared, trapped subordinate who could see the danger in him, the insanity that took over a wolf ready to make the kill, no matter who it was.

The dark-minded werewolf gave one of the female pack members a smile as he walked by, feeling the stirring of the true wolf inside of him once again. It felt good, knowing that it was respect and fear that trembled off of his pack, rather than the questioning glances that Faolan had always given him ever since he had promoted her to his Beta. His next Beta would not be as outspoken as Faolan, Fenrir was sure of that. He would not allow things to get out of control and get so insane once more.

Perhaps, Fenrir thought to himself, having to hold in the laughter, he would promote that scrappy, shaking pup from earlier, the one with the weird name…what had it been, Lupin, or something of the sort? Of course, to do so would be totally insane. Pups were _never _upstarts, as such things were simply just against the werewolf code. Power was born of respect and fear, two things that no pup would ever truly have until they proved themselves.

Stopping next to one of their slain prey caused Fenrir to take in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of what had once been a woman, only twenty or so, by the smell of her. She had dark blonde hair, and when Fenrir kicked her over, he saw the glassy green colour of her eyes and the beautiful way that blood bubbled up from the claw marks covering her face and chest. Fenrir did not remembering attacking _this _particular woman, but he suspected she had been a great deal of fun to toy with.

"_That _one was quite the little bitch, from what I hear," said a voice and Fenrir looked up with a laugh, spotting the wolf that they called Josef Ulm. He was a dark man with hair that had grown long and wild, and he had the same mad darkness that Fenrir so desperately loved holding onto. His wolfish instincts were strong, nearly enough so to cover up the part of him that had once been human. And best of all, Josef was barely older than the dead woman, a personal project of Fenrir's himself.

"My boy, it is great to see you again," Fenrir said as the younger wolf jumped down, leaning in for the hug that Fenrir offered him, the two men thumping each other on the back in a way that might have seemed intimidating to anyone else. "You have been gone too long, as always. The women miss you in their beds at night, and I, of course, miss seeing you by my side at every mission."

"Indeed, Fenrir," Josef replied, giving his mentor, his father figure, a coy smile that made Fenrir want to laugh. His protégé had always been a bit pretentious, and now here he was, acting like he was some sort of prince, simply because he had been giving power over his own pack only a few months ago, one of the youngest Alphas in recent history. "It is nice to see you once more, as well. Better yet to smell the blood that has been spilt here. Though, and correct me if I am wrong, but it _does _seem to smell a bit of the blood of a lycan, especially on you, my old friend."

"You remember Faolan, of course?" Fenrir asked with a wolfish grin, and Josef nodded in reply. "She served this pack well as Beta, but, of course, her time had come to…ah, explore other interests. Specifically, those that involve no longer standing in my way." Josef laughed, a noise that was half-human and half the bark of the beasts they shared blood with. "Unfortunately, Faolan did not see it my way at first, but now? Ah, I believe everything is clearer to her now than it ever was before."

"You turn our pack into a graveyard of fallen friends, the bodies piling up ever higher every time I visit you, Fenrir. I know your love of danger and death, but is this not the third Beta you have killed since taking over your garrison? Are you sure it wise to be killing them off so willy-nilly? The others, the pups, surely they live in fear of you now, in fear of what you may do to them?" Josef asked, leaning away to sniff at the dead woman.

"As they should," Fenrir replied, watching his protégé get down on his knees, running slender fingers over the dead woman's cold face, stroking the scars that would have made a regular human's stomach turn. "If an Alpha is not feared, then he doesn't even deserve to be _called _Alpha. You, of all people, should know that, Josef. Unless, of course, you've come to tell me that _my _personal protégé, the man I have raised for nearly twenty years to lead, has failed his mission?"

"That is not what I am saying, Fenrir, my good, _old_, friend. You grow more paranoid the older you get, I can see it in the length of that mess you call hair," Josef replied with a laugh as he let his fingers run further down the woman's body, nearly stroking her chest. "I hear one of the pups did this to her? All the scarring? The little whore is lucky she's dead, then, I should think, if she fell to a mere _whelp_."

"Indeed," Fenrir replied shortly, joining the younger man to bend over and inspect the slain body. "I would be embarrassed to even _think _of being taken out by a pup. Speaking of which, I believe I might have Misha take an extra few _training sessions _with some of the dumber ones. You see that one there?" He pointed in direction of the one he had spoken to earlier, the one called Lupin. "Didn't know how to even check for signs of life. If he doesn't end up falling to Omega, I'll be surprised."

"What's your success rate been for pack growth so far this year, Fenrir?" Josef asked suddenly, and Fenrir lowered his brow, wondering where this question had come from all of a sudden. "We've added twenty in the past three months already, and Jezze, you know, my newest Beta, believes we might be able to get in another forty before winter sets in. of course, that's not taking into account those who didn't survive the _processing._"

"Well, I'm not too sure, actually…" Fenrir looked around at the pups and older wolves who were beginning to slow down as the sun started its descent. "Misha is the one who keeps track of numbers, I believe, though he might have mentioned it to me at some point recently. Let me think…we've turned at least twelve since March, and we've gotten in at least nine older pups."

"You know that the Dark Lord will want you to be moving even faster that, Fenrir," Josef reminded his old teacher, and Fenrir frowned once more. He had not heard that Josef, who had only months before been ranting about the so-called "Dark Lord" being a false leader, was now a prominent follower of the man once called Tom Riddle. "He does not like it when we fail. That's part of the reason why I jumped up to Alpha so fast, you know. Cara was simply just not getting the numbers he wanted."

"Cara?" Fenrir tried to remember the circumstances surrounding the Adderbury pack's Alpha's death. Cara had always been a decent enough Alpha, even for a female, though she'd been known as being a bit more lenient to the humans than most. "I thought that you approached her because she had grown too weak following her pregnancy? Are you telling me that the _Dark Lord _told you to kill her?"

"Of course that's what I'm saying, Fenrir! The times are changing, are they not? The time of the werewolf approached, growing closer each and every day, and we must be prepared! We must have the numbers to fight those who would wish to see us dead, and the only way to do that is to make sure that those in charge understand their job properly. We cannot have weak and inefficient Alphas leading our packs, not if we intend on winning the war for the Dark Lord!" Josef said, sticking out his chest proudly in a way that reminded Fenrir of the little boy only fifteen years previous who had always been so happy to hear a compliment from Fenrir.

"The Dark Lord…we fight his wars," Josef continued in a loud tone, as other wolves began to creep in, moving closer to hear the discussion between the two Alphas. "And he has promised that, for every wolf that fights, for every pack and garrison who helps him to take out those who are the scum of the earth, he will give those who fight for him their rights! We are worthy of our own rule, of a life free from fear of the humans, away from those who do not understand the beauty of a lycan's life!"

Fenrir's mind went back to the discussion that he had had with Faolan only earlier that day. Hadn't she chastised him for being so enthusiastic about following this Dark Lord? And yet, why did Fenrir's stomach sink as he listened to Josef talk excitedly about all the promises that the dark wizard had promised Fenrir and his people? Of course Fenrir believed in the Dark Lord and his cause to eradicate the filth of the Wizarding World, but that didn't seem to stop the uncomfortable feeling inside of Fenrir, the feeling that something was wrong here.

"And with Fenrir leading us all as the _supreme Alpha_, we will not fail! He will lead into battle, and through this battle, we shall find victory! Mothers will remember our names. Fathers will curse us before they fall asleep each night. The wizards will keep their wands lit and their doors locked, but we shall storm on them anyway, for we are the mighty, and it is the _mighty _who inherit the earth! As our supreme Alpha, Fenrir can tell you all about the Dark Lord's plans, isn't that right, Fenrir?" Josef asked, shaking Fenrir out of his thoughts.

"Su…supreme Alpha? Did you say _supreme Alpha_?" Fenrir repeated, and Josef flashed his mentor a big grin, showing off his sharp teeth that did well at cutting the flesh of his enemies. Fenrir did his best to compose his emotions, attempting to hide the shock and instead convey a sense of intimidating wisdom, as though he had known about his new role all along.

"Why yes, Fenrir, I _did _say supreme Alpha! Or has the word not reached your pack all the way out here?" A few of the wolves laughed, causing Fenrir to glare and snap at them, creating a harsh silence to fall over the group. "The Dark Lord has made his announcement that there simply just _must _be one leader who can help as his representative on council meetings, someone who will stand in the place of _all _of werewolf kind, who will speak in our voice and use our thoughts and fight with our claws. And he has chosen _you_, Fenrir, greatest of all the werewolves."

_Greatest of all the werewolves_. The supreme Alpha. Fenrir could barely wrap his head around the idea as he stared down at Josef in shock, wondering how it was that _he _had been picked out of all the packs. But then it came to him. _Obviously _he had been granted the title of greatest of all the werewolves, because he _was_ the greatest of all the werewolves.

He was the most vicious, the most bloodthirsty of all the known lycans. No one before or after him would ever convert more people than he had in his life. Fenrir attacked and conquered, killing and claiming and making himself known. It had been his whole life, and to be recognised for such accomplishments…_well_, it was about damn time someone realised that Fenrir was the most ferocious and the most deserving of supreme Alpha.

And as the leader of all the werewolves packs, there would be no one to question him, no one to topple him from power or question his decisions. He would rule over all, and the wizards would bow at the sound of his name. They would tremble at the sight of Fenrir as he killed their loved ones, tearing out throats, sucking up the sweet taste of blood. The wizards would fear him soon enough, as they ought to, and now that he was supreme Alpha, the whole world would know his superiority.

"Tell the Dark Lord I am honoured by his request that I lead the packs, and that I am his loyal and willing servant," Fenrir told Josef, who grinned viciously. They were surrounded by the sounds of wild cheering as the whole pack erupted into celebration at Fenrir's acceptance. "I will fight by his side for all of the werewolves of this great land. I will make them proud as I rule by the Dark Lord's side, and I will make it clear to the humans that we are beasts to be _feared_. _We_ are their new masters, their new rulers, and they will all know this soon enough."

Fenrir grinned wolfishly at his pack, who were beginning to run around excitedly and howl like there was no tomorrow. Soon enough, his numbers would double and triple and multiply until the werewolves had taken over the whole world. And Fenrir was at the head of all of this, the leader of an army so great, a force so unbeatable, that he would go down in history as the most fearsome and dangerous creature to ever live.


End file.
